


Season of the Witch

by ClarenceJ



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Danger, Dark Magic, Family, Female Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Non-romantic love, Pagan Festivals, Pagan Witches, Paganism, Rituals, Self-Discovery, Wandless Magic, Witches, Witches More Powerful Than Dumbledore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26435113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClarenceJ/pseuds/ClarenceJ
Summary: A group of witches visits Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the only catch is they don't have wands. They don't have the same magic as other wizards do because they come from a line of pagan witches. The power only chooses witches, and randomly, from both muggle and wizarding families, giving them greater power than Dumbledore himself.Who knows what chaos and wonder they'll inflict on Hogwarts, and what dangers they'll bring on themselves.(A/N) Don't let the number of original characters scare you off. I'm going to stick to third person omniscient for all of these. Thanks for reading!
Kudos: 1





	Season of the Witch

The weather at Hogwarts was ever-changing, but today is an especially a dreary day. The sky is a thick mass of grey clouds, blotting out any hope of seeing sunlight and the ever-present chance of rain. The forests around the castle and its grounds remain a thick green year-round. Large conifers and deciduous trees dominate the skyline with their imposing frames, making any person standing next to them appear minuscule. But there’s not only one person walking in these woods, but seven. Seven American women, seven American witches to be exact, ranging in age from twenty to sixteen. Morgan, Paige, Phoebe, Mia, Grace, Kate, and Vivian.

Their magic is different from the other witches and wizards with wands. They’re pagans, drawing and channeling power from the elements, spirits, demons, deities, you name it and they can work with it. They’re not contained by old Latin spells that everyone knows. They’re the witches that do spells in iambic pentameter, and in the ancient languages of the African, Norse, and Eastern Europeans. Their power doesn’t come from the wand, but from within them.

“Are we ever going to get there? I thought their magic school would be easy to spot like Ilvermorny,” the youngest, Vivian, complains and drags her feet. She’s a wisp of a girl from Florida with pencil straight blonde hair and tanned skin, the envy of all no-maj girls except when she makes things explode out of anger. She’s an expert at making people talk (whether or not they want to) and absolutely wicked at charms.

No one gets annoyed at her comment but there are sparse chuckles from around the group and from the eldest, Morgan.

Morgan is, in comparison to Vivian, is rough but no less bewitching. She’s from the heart of Appalachia, born to two god-fearing no-maj parents who tried to kill her the second they connected her mishaps of accidental magic to witchcraft. Her wild dark hair and even wilder dark eyes are as sharp as razor wire. Her magic rolls off of her like warm molasses and pours out of her mouth through her low voice. “Yeah but you still got lost on your way there!”

They continue hiking for another ten minutes before more questions come up. “Why couldn’t we apparate there again?” Vivian asks. Their trek could have been easy, apparating from place to place until arriving at the border of Hogwarts.

“Because if we don’t know where it is, how can we apparate there?” Paige, the ever-studious bookworm responds rhetorically. There’s almost nothing in theory that she can’t do magically, but she’s not an obvious know it all. “They probably have the same protections around it as Ilvermorny, so we have to get there the no-maj way. Then, we can apparate to the boundaries of the school from memory.”

She was found by their coven when she was ten in New York state after a series of magical accidents made the no-maj paper. After obliviating the witnesses, her no-maj parents gladly gave her up to attend Ilvermorny and wanted nothing more to do with her. They disowned her from their family and branded her as a freak, so MACUSA took her in and after her failed attempt at Ilvermorny, gave her to their coven of twenty-four.

Their trek continues on until there is barely any sun left in the sky, the feeling of magic in the air increasing with each step, but they finally reach it. There, sitting across the long lake is Hogwarts. The stone spires rise high above the tree line, and the water sits below the rocky base of the castle.

All seven stand in front of the sight with jaws gaping. They quickly shake it off because, after everything, they’d like to sleep there for the night. Morgan looks up at the sky noticing a lattice pattern of protective spells, anti-apparition charms, and much more surrounding them. If she looks hard enough she can see the faint lines of shapes that make up the barrier spells. “Be careful of the wards walking up,” Morgan instructs. “We don’t know what they have in place.” The rest nod and remain vigilant until they get to the main bridge.

“Should we just walk across? Send a message and wait?” Grace asks cautiously. She’s fierce by nature but the last thing she wants is to be turned into a toad or fried out of existence.

“I’ll walk in first and see if anything is in place. Otherwise we’ll walk to the front door-,” She barely finishes her first step before a piercing shrieking alarm sounds in their ears and rings across the lake. It’s deafening, causing them to fall to their knees, their hands covering their ears tightly.

They barely recognize the crack of apparating until there are hands on them and wands sticking into their backs. The silence when the alarm turns off is just as deafening.

“Show me your hands.” All of their hands rise. “State your name and your business,” the oily voice drawls again. Morgan is quick to take the lead.

“We’re unarmed witches here to see Hogwarts and learn,” she states. It’s a short and sweet statement that’s not all untrue. The only lie is about being unarmed. “We would like to speak with your headmaster, if you’ll let us of course. I’m going to stand up now and turn around.” She does as she says and looks at the wizard behind her. He’s dressed in all black, has a pale, almost sickly pallor to his skin, and pitch black hair slicked back. There are three other men, also dressed in dark colors. _‘Probably Aurors’_ Morgan tells herself and her friends through their shared mental connection.

“No,” his nasally voice drawls again. _‘Behind you. Old man, long beard’_ Paige tells her mentally. It is their most secure way to find and talk to each other, although it had been a pain in the ass to perfect. Compared to a television show, they have hours of “outtakes” of thoughts they would rather have never heard and images they wish they’d never seen.

“Oh come now Severus,” an old voice admonishes. Morgan keeps her hands in the air but turns to look at the elderly man. He’s tall with a long grey beard and flowing grey robes. _‘Everyone here with their robes’_ Vivian groans at the fashion faux pas.

 _‘Shut it’_ Mia snips.

“Of course they mean no harm to us. You all must be tired from the long journey here, and anyhow they could easily overpower the four of you,” he nods his head at the others to put their wands down and winks mischievously at the girls. “You may leave us,” he tells the Aurors.

“What makes you say that?” Grace questions. The old man looks at her knowingly.

“When you’re as old as I am, you simply know.”

Morgan clears her throat to grab his attention before asking, “You’re Headmaster Dumbledore, right?” He smirks as they all rise to their feet and the Aurors disappear from sight.

“Yes, I am. Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” A gust of wind sends shivers down their spines so Dumbledore waves his hand with a small, “Come,” and begins his walk to the main entrance.

The women remain frozen in place with the shock of being invited in so quickly. Paige speaks up when it’s clear no one else will. “You’re letting us stay?”

Dumbledore turns with an innocent expression, a smile tweaking at his mouth. “Of course. Hogwarts is home to bright and talented witches and wizards. It would be nice to have more of that spark here. Now come and tell me why you’ve all learned without wands?” They don’t wait to be asked again as they pick themselves up and speed walk to his side.

Paige continues speaking, “Magic doesn’t come from the wand, but from the witch. That and we just don’t have a wand. None have ever fit us,” she shrugs at the end.

They reach the main door where a tall and thin woman stands straight as a board. Her hair neatly combed and a classic witches hat stands straight on her head. “It’s quite alright Minerva,” Dumbledore assures her. “They’re seeking knowledge and safety for the time being. Exchange students if you will. Our housekeeper Mr. Filch will show you the way to your quarters. Breakfast is at eight,” he calls once more before disappearing from sight.

The men referred to as Severus and Filch remain as well as the skinny tall woman. Her voice is the one that breaks the silence. “I am Professor McGonagall. You will address all of the professors here by such titles. We have many students here and some know little to no magic while others are more advanced. We have twenty rules, and while you reside in these walls. You will learn them and follow them. I would assume you are all registered witches?”

“Not particularly,” Morgan says slowly. This takes the elder witch by surprise. “We live in no-maj society and witch society but MACUSA doesn’t want anything to do with us. We live in our own commune for witches only.” McGonagall narrows her eyes at this in disbelief.

“I will take that up later with the Headmaster. The list of rules will be given to you and you are expected to memorize them. If they are broken you will be removed from this school seeing as you do not attend it.”

“We understand.” The response is strong and sure. To get sent to a different coven outside of magical bounds and MACUSA, they all had to be either expelled or uninvited to Ilvermorny. That takes breaking some major rules or being an inherent danger to the student population, and unfortunately for them they are (or were when they were younger) naturally dangerous.

“For the time being you will not be allowed to attend any classes-,” she begins when the small chubby girl in front of her, Kate, holds up her round fingers.

For being so innocent looking, she is their dark horse. She’s overlooked since she is roly-poly in her appearance, but her mind and magic are fast as a whip. She’s their best naturalist, being able to grow plants from seed, create master level potions baked into food, and the poet of some of the most devious hexes and curses you could imagine.

“We have our own curriculum to follow even though we’re traveling. We’re expected to continue it while we’re away,” she informs the professor. The seven could swear they see relief pass across her face and on Severus’s at the prospect of not teaching them.

“I’m sure with your certain. . .proclivities,” she emphasizes with a certain amount of distaste, “it would be highly difficult to conform to the appropriate class structure. Now, take your belongings and head to your quarters. There is a curfew of 10 pm.”

They head up the stairs, admiring how they move on their own, astonished at the castle’s magic and the moving portraits. They keep quiet around Filch, not knowing whether or not to trust him, not feeling comfortable with a grumpy stranger in the mix. There are one or two students still bustling around in robes that make Vivian bunch her nose, but she sets aside her differences for now.

They finally arrive at a stout wooden door with metal detailing. “This is it, don’t forget it. Good luck finding it if you do.” The housekeeper waddles away without another look back, shaking his head as though he should have had something better to do.

The room is as beautiful as the rest of the castle with stone walls, old wooden furniture, and ornate rugs. The fireplace is fully stocked with wood, ready to be lit, and warm the chilling room along with the other logs stacked on the side.

Grace takes a step toward the fireplace when Vivian speaks up. “Wait! Wait! Let me try lighting it!” They all look to one another before shrugging.

“Be our guest,” Phoebe mockingly bows. She sets her backpack down and reaches into it for another set of clothes. She has to stretch her arm down to reach because of the enchantment she put on all of them, and it’s not as roomy as she would’ve liked, but it will do for now. In the background she faintly hears Vivian having trouble starting the fireplace, saying the incantation louder and louder.

“Don’t get worked up Viv, it’s just like any other spell. You have to will the fire into existence. See it burning in your head and say the words to start it,” Morgan coaches as she unpacks.

Vivian quite literally burns a hole in the wood as she stares and coolly says, “Incendia.” The fire flames are over three feet high as they burn brightly to life, bringing the others to a round of applause for her.

The rest of the night is quiet. They get settled in their beds, making them with magic and setting up the room to their liking. The only have to front room, the bedroom, and a bathroom but they have to admit it’s better than the tent they’ve been setting up in the woods.

The night comes and goes, each girl worried about the next day in her own way. They have no robes to change into like the rest of the students so they dress in their own ‘matching uniforms’ of floral dresses, although it’s vaguely something out of Midsommar. Of course they’ll stand out more, but that’s the price of coming to a school they don’t attend and not having any proper wizarding clothes.

They follow students down to the great hall for breakfast with little to no problem, and no one asks them who they are. There are a few stares but nothing they can’t handle. Their problem comes from the fact there are four tables for each house, like Ilvermorny, but unlike Ilvermorny they are far less welcoming in regards to conjuring a separate table for them. _‘Maybe it’s a British thing’_ Morgan thinks.

A quick scan of the hall shows the teachers sitting at the front of the hall at their own table, Severus and McGonagall are both seated for breakfast. The girls break their gaze to examine the different tables before zeroing in on the red and gold table. _‘Now’s your chance Viv’_ Morgan tells her. She may be a good leader but these students would take one look at her and run because she’s far older than any of the students here and because she doesn’t know how to relate to them. The other girls have a far better chance of being accepted.

“You’ve got it,” the blonde murmurs as she catches a ginger boy sitting down at the end of the table with a wave and a heartbreaking smile. “Do you mind if we join you? We’re exchange students and we just got in last night,” she explains. A bat of her eyelashes and a flash of a smile have him nodding his head right away. They make themselves comfortable and almost jump back in surprise as food pops up in front of them and the dishes appear suddenly as well.

A voice behind them speaks up, scaring them again, “Who do we have here George-y?” Vivian doesn’t hold back her persuasion on him either.

“You have a twin? Too cool,” she smirks and does her same routine on the new guy who doesn’t stand a chance. His eyes widen and his expression relaxes the longer he looks at her.

“Fred, come say hello. They say they’re exchange students,” George tells his brother. Fred’s eyes widen before he nods vigorously.

“We’ve never seen that before. Always the same old students- minus the first years of course,” he says as he piles his plate with food. “Where’re you from then?”

“The U.S.,” Kate responds. They continue to eat whatever breakfast foods they recognize, ignoring some of the weirder things like beans and toast or kippers.

Morgan takes the opportunity to open up a little to their new friends. “We wanted to travel and see the different magical schools around the world, so we picked Hogwarts to start.”

Fred and George’s smiles are a mile wide each. “Well you’ve come to the right place! It doesn’t get much better than Hogwarts!”

“Best school in the world where we’re concerned,” the other comments. The rest of breakfast is spent like that, telling the twins a little about themselves and answering questions about what it’s like to be American. They’re so engrossed with talking to the odd girls, they almost make themselves late for class!

“See you at lunch?” they ask Vivian who nods in return before running off, chatting together as they leave. The dining hall slowly empties until they are the only students left.

“Let’s get to practicing,” Morgan declares with a smile. The start toward the main doors when they notice a courtyard branching off of some walkways. “This will be perfect!” She shrugs off her pack that holds their lesson plans and retrieves the list of what they need to accomplish. Their own teachers had provided a list of spells that needed to be mastered, along with other tasks such as flying without a broom, divination, and dueling. It is daunting but all of them are more than up for the challenge.

Although they all learn the same material, they choose to specialize within certain subjects faster than Hogwarts. They’re all fluent in the basics of brewing potions, charms, divination, and transfiguration. Some of their magic comes from pure imagination and the simple will to do something. It’s limitless as long as they have a strong intention.

“First on the list is a warm up _._ If we fly through these, that’s alright. Two rounds, verbal and nonverbal spells. Circle up,” she instructs as the others do as she says. She pulls out a fresh, green tennis ball from the bag, holding it softly. “Alright let’s go, say the spell and catch it.”

They’re silent before Mia, a quick study and spitfire in learning spells, raises her hand in front of her and says, “Accio!” The ball comes shooting at her faster than she anticipates and stings her hand as it slaps into her palm. From there, it’s a game of magical catch, moving from verbal commands to non-verbal. They move through their list of spells, levitating, exploding, transfiguring, and charming nearly half of the objects in Morgan’s bag while playing games and practicing on each other when it’s applicable.

Unbeknownst to the Americans, they are being watched from the window across the courtyard. The teachers of Hogwarts, not in class, are not amused as the group appears to flounce around without the structure or objective they have learned to provide for their students. No matter how annoyed they seem on the outside, some watch with amazement as their spells progress until they’re transfiguring stones being tossed into the air into butterflies, wine glasses, and bubbles. Some of the teachers make their way outside to the courtyard to take a closer look. Flitwick makes himself forefront in the group.

It doesn’t take long for them to notice a small herd of adults watching them with bated breath. “Hello Professors! We were just about to move on. Any more ideas for spells?”

The short professor steps forward, wand in hand and nods his head quickly. “Yes, I would like to see you perform a few charms if you would,” he motions in front of him. “Show me your Lumos maxima.”

Before the words finish leaving his mouth Paige lifts her hand, and without a single sound, a bright ball of light blinds them all. A few of the teachers, professor Flitwick included, brings his hand up to cover his eyes. With no effort, she lets it burn for a few seconds, closing her fist to put it out. 

“Very well done miss. . .?”

“Paige.”

“Very well done miss Paige, very well done! Now, I’d like to see any of you create red sparks from your-,” he pauses as he remembers they don’t have wands. “Let’s see some red sparks,” he instructs.

Multiple ladies throw a hand to the sky and it’s like fireworks above them. They go up with a great screech and fizzle loudly as the sparks descend. Professor Flitwick jumps back as some of the sparks come back to the ground, but Vivian plays with hers in her hand as Flitwick watches in alarm. _‘It must be burning!’_ he thinks as she continues to play before extinguishing it.

He thinks of one of the most challenging spells he can. One that has stumped almost all of his students every year. “Turn vinegar to wine.”

Morgan smiles deviously. “I don’t happen to have vinegar on me at this time professor. Would you accept water?” Flitwick nods to this change. He expects her to reach for her water bottle sitting in the side of her bag but his jaw drops as she walks to the fountain on the far side of the courtyard. Morgan turns to look at him with her cheeky smile.

She sits down on the edge of the fountain and dips her hand into the water, swirling it absentmindedly. It only takes a fraction of her focus to command the water to become wine. Flitwick watches as it begins to bleed red from her hand, moving from the lower level to the upper one until the whole fountain is pouring a dark red wine and the air smells of alcohol.

Cheeky as ever, Morgan tastes it and makes a face. “I could have done without the merlot but I guess it’s better than nothing.” Professor Flitwick looks at it as well with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. It’s perfect! It’s wine!

“That is- Well I don’t- I can’t- Very well done! Extraordinary!” The rest of the professors whisper to each other before examining the fountain for themselves. The bell sounds, signaling the end of classes, and Flitwick quickly changes the wine back to water before going off to his class.

“Professor Flitwick! Wait a minute! We have to practice dueling for our lessons and were wondering if you could supervise? We heard you were a dueling champion and it would be incredible to have your help.” His cheeks grow red as a smile creep across his face.

“The pleasure is mine,” he nods.

“My name is Morgan. I’ll come and find you later to discuss the when and where, but thank you so much!” she smiles back.

The day goes by quickly as the ladies break into small groups and continue practicing while the other group goes to the library. The library is monstrous. It’s grander than anything they’ve ever seen. There are so many old tomes and spellbooks to read, and the restricted section is a new concept for them. They see some wards blocking certain books and there’s dark energy rolling off this section.

“Uh, excuse me?” Kate asks a woman in her late forties with a face like a bird and a neck like an ostrich. She whips around with her eyes narrowed at Kate, and before Kate knows it, she’s being reprimanded.

“What are you doing out of uniform and here in the middle of the day! There are classes you should be in!” she shrills at the plump girl. Kate flounders for a minute because she’s thrown off guard so quickly but gets her footing back just as fast.

“I’m not a student here! I was going to ask if you could help me find the potions section,” she snips back to the unpleasant woman. Madam Pince straightens.

“That is good to know, but do not take that tone with me again if you wish to find anything in this library,” Pince cautions. Kate feels no shame for standing up for herself but nods her head to pretend to agree. She then spends the next hour in that section as she finds new potions to brew, writing their names, ingredients, and procedure down as not to forget them. She charms two of her pens to copy different pages in different books as she handwrites the one in front of her.

“Hey,” a voice pops up over her shoulder, nearly causing her to jump out of her skin. “Sorry Kate. Lunch just started if you want to get a bite to eat. Do you have long to finish copying?”

She shakes her head with a small, “No. Give me a minute and I’ll head out with you.”

The great hall is more packed for lunch than it was for breakfast but fortunately there’s a table in the corner with seven chairs and a decent amount of food. It is an unexpected surprise that warms their heart. They spot Fred and George further down the Gryffindor and wave to them. The twins wave back and meet them at the entrance.

“You going to join us or not? And where’s the rest of your gaggle of Americans?” They joke with big goofy smiles.

“They’ve actually set a little table up for us over here. I’m sorry we can’t join you,” Kate frowns. “The rest of them must be practicing but they should be here in time.” The couple say their goodbyes and eat lunch at their respective tables. The rest of the seven join lunch a little late but eat fast as the three from the library tell them about their day.

“I’m going to talk to their potions professor either tonight or tomorrow to brew up some potions for us and try out some new ones for fun. There were some pretty tough ones in the advanced potions book I found. I don’t even think it was meant for students.”

She takes a second to look around cautiously before asking, “Have you guys found that we’re more advanced than the students here?” Kate makes sure it comes out as a whisper to deter eavesdroppers.

They all think about it before coming to the same conclusion. “Yeah Flitwick was way too surprised to see that fountain turn into wine. And his face when we did all of the other charms?” Morgan remembers suddenly. “Of course I was showing off but he was bamboozled!”

“I thought he was going to pass out when I was playing with that spark,” Vivian adds with a smile through a mouthful of chicken.

The others giggle at that but stop when they spy a blonde boy in green robes watching them with two stout boys flanking him. Morgan flashes her eyes at him, making sure he focuses on eating and not on them.

“You do realize though that we’re lightyears ahead of them,” Morgan says blatantly. The rest of the girls nod in understanding. “They don’t start working on nonverbal spells until their last year and they can’t cast wandless magic. They actually have to have a spell for everything which is weird to us of course,” they nod their heads in agreement again. “I just told the water to become wine and it did. I don’t think anyone here can do that, not even the headmaster.”

“I listened to their thoughts at practice,” Mia mutters into her plate. Mia is their psychic expert of sorts. She’s studied the art of legillimancy, divination, and arithmancy. The others whip their heads so quickly Morgan’s neck audibly pops.

“You did what!” she chastises harshly. “You know we don’t do that. We don’t invade privacy like that unless we’re doing will and influence spells,” she snaps.

“They were staring at us like we were either freaks or prodigies, so I looked and Flitwick thought that we were actually magical creatures instead of mages!” Mia hisses back. It’s a worried tone that gets more frenzied as she continues, “We shouldn’t have come if they can’t understand what we do! We have limitless magic without wands and that scares the shit out of them!”

Morgan sighs because she knows Mia has a point. Since they don’t need spells for everything, they do have limitless potential when it comes to magic and that scares a lot of people (even herself sometimes). _‘Seriously’_ she thinks ‘ _If I can create a lightning storm and conjure primordial forces then am I really human?’_

“Alright, yes, you have a point but we need to respect their privacy. It’s about trust and they’re trusting us to respect boundaries and rules.”

Kate nods and adds, “We can still do our magic but we just have to not care what other people think, no matter how hard that is. I mean the students won’t understand anything we do, so we can at least try to fit in with the professors.”

Grace, the redhead of the group with a fiery temper from Wisconsin scoffs loudly from the opposite end. “We really only need them to stop us from either killing each other, which won’t happen,” she amends dryly, “or to supervise us while we use their facilities for potions or classrooms.”

They begin to notice the students leave the hall in a great rush, signaling the end of lunch and beginning of afternoon classes. The group follows their lead of putting their plates in one spot and cleaning up the scraps and crumbs off the table.

“Viv and I are going to keep practicing on the grounds if anyone wants to join us,” Grace invites but they all shake their heads.

The rest of the day goes by in a flash as the group goes about their own tasks, making dinner the last stop for the day. They catch up about what they’ve read and what they’ve done. They only stop to eat the incredible food provided for them like steak and kidney pie (which they’ve never dreamed of trying or even liking), and different drinks like pumpkin juice.

Everything in their American home is non-magical and quite frankly, American. Their food isn’t cooked by elves or They have their ordered pizza, chicken fingers and French fries, Italian night, and Chinese food night. Here, it seems like everything is extremely British with beans and toast, steak and kidney pie, and kipper.

“Why is that kid staring at us? The one with the blonde hair. The one from earlier,” Mia stresses with a tight voice and a sharp nod in his direction.

They all take turns alternating looks behind them. Unfortunately for them, Phoebe locks eyes with him, alerting him that they know he’s watching. Also unfortunately they watch as he stands up and struts his way to the end of their table.

“You’re those new witches from America, right?” he sneers, looking them up and down with hungry planning eyes.

“Yes, we’re witches from the United States,” Morgan snips back. The boy, no older than fourteen chuckles snidely and holds his nose up in the air at them.

“I could have guessed that by looking at the cow,” he motions to Kate before scoffing.

The seven of them see red. They want to make him hurt, break is legs with a quick thought or meld his tongue to the roof of his mouth for a while. There’s no doubt in their minds that he does this to everyone. A boy this rotten to strangers is going to be rotten throughout.

But they don’t hurt him or break his legs or meld his tongue in his mouth because their magic might do worse things than they expect. They keep their control and breathe deeply to smother their anger.

Vivian turns on her charm. “What’s your name? I see you’re very popular over there in Slytherin,” she smiles sweetly. She bats her eyelashes, putting her elbows on the table and leaning in towards him.

He responds in kind. “I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, pureblood,” he replies proudly as if that changes his rotten personality. “You’d best get to know the Slytherin house. Mostly purebloods I assure you. You wouldn’t want to get mixed into the wrong crowd of mudbloods,” he glances quickly to the other houses, and a gives a particularly pointed look at the young kids sitting next to Fred and George.

“We know how to choose friends and allies on our own, thank you,” Kate smiles although it doesn’t reach her eyes. “What’s a pureblood?” she asks, acting dumbly. Draco’s smile morphs into a wide sneer as he explains the difference between the heritage as though it fucking matters.

Kate’s stomach sours. “My parents were no-maj’s but I can still do impressive magic,” Kate replies with a challenging glare.

Draco’s sneer deepens even further. “You? A mudblood? I should have guessed from your appearance. Low-quality clothes, looking like a whale, and ‘impressive magic’?” he spits angrily. “You couldn’t transfigure a match stick to a needle!”

The Slytherin’s behind him watch with rapt attention as he continues to insult Kate who sits there with a straight face. He stops his rant before scoffing rudely and shaking his head, walking away from their table as though they’d infect him.

 _‘Let’s show him what real magic is, shall we?’_ she tells the other six mentally. The cruel boy sits down next to his friends again and begins laughing and pointing at her, not trying to hide his disgust. The seven exchange meaningful glances before looking at Kate for her permission to hex him into next week. _‘I’ll do it.’_ She glares murderously at her food. You don’t need Latin to perform cruel spells.

Turning her attention back to the food, she focuses all of her energy onto a mental image of Draco. “Trick his eyes, cruel mouth that lies, let all food he sees be decayed and diseased.” Not a second later Draco is falling over his bench screaming in distress as he stares at his food.

His plate clatters to the ground as he tosses it from in front of him. “PROFESSOR!” he screams as professors and students alike crowd around him. “THE FOOD! PROFESSOR THE FOOD!” he cries and points furiously. Kate watches as they look at the food that appears normal to them but covered in maggots and mold to Draco.

“There’s nothing there Draco,” some of his classmates repeat to him.

His eyes widen in shock. _‘They can’t see it!’_ he thinks frantically. Maggots are burrowing into blackening chicken and flies are buzzing across gangrenous, rotting dishes. Cups are filled with stagnant water and food bits floating in them. “It’s everywhere! It’s on all of their tables!”

“Mr. Malfoy that is quite enough of that!" McGonagall's shrill voice pierces the air. "Twenty points from Slytherin for such a dramatic disruption from a meal without merit,” she declares with a flair of her hand. “Go back to your meals! There’s nothing to see here!”

Morgan, Vivian, and Grace can barely contain their fits of laughter as Draco slowly becomes green as he’s forced to look at his food and what his peers are eating. They take a silent bet of when he’ll throw up, but none of them are right. He goes red in the face when he sees their laughter. There’s a hex sitting on the end of his tongue but he glares at them instead.

“Filthy mudblood cow,” he sneers with bared teeth. They know this isn’t the end of it, only the beginning.

They make sure to leave the great hall early and scamper their way back to the room, giggling and smirking deviously. They throw themselves on their beds in exhaustion from the long day of practice and research.

“I have to say that was worth the trouble it’s going to bring,” Kate sighs.

“I liked it. The rot was a nice touch by the way and so were the bugs,” Morgan smirks. She approves of hexes and curses all the way, especially since she specializes in the dark arts. They all approve of the hexing, but only if the person deserves it. Malfoy surely did.

They’ve arranged the beds in a heptagon along the curved walls of the room, leaving the center open with a transfigured rug. The beds are beautiful wooden four-poster beds with golden sheets. It’s not like home, but it’ll do for the few weeks they’re there.

The night is quiet as they set upon their own tasks. Morgan prepares for a ritual, Kate goes about organizing her potions supplies, Mia levitates above her bed as she meditates, Page sits with her nose buried in a book, Vivian applies a cream face mask with her manicured nails, Phoebe practices her geometry on the dark wood floor in chalk, and Grace does her nightly yoga.

“Let’s head to bed for now. We should rest up for another full day tomorrow,” Morgan sighs as she pulls herself under the covers. It’s a beautiful relaxing sensation to finally rest after the long day of practice and explaining themselves to other students and staff.

“Good night,” they all say just before Morgan looks at the fireplace and extinguishes it with a snap of her fingers.


End file.
